Disclaimer: Crimson Peak is Guillermo Del Toro's property, Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke, The Lodgers to Brian O'Malley. Emma, Constance and I are self-inserts. The old lady from Camden Market belongs to Chibimelodee.
Summary: Ghosts are real and everything happens for a reason. Is this why Marina and her friends find themselves trapped in Allerdale Hall a few days away from Christmas?
Author's note: This story was written for me by « Emma » and « Constance » from Chibimelodee as an Advent Calendar two years ago. Please note that all three of us are french and while we do know our way around English, we might still make some mistakes. Feel free to let us know! As the three girls are french and start to speak from this chapter, I'll put the translations of their sentences right next to them so you know what they say.
At the Candlelight
Epilogue : Come back home
He will be home soon. Oh how she dreaded to be alone in this awful mansion ! But it was the price to pay… It was both a curse and privilege, even if the latest seemed to be non-existent these days. But she needed to be strong. She needed to be strong for Thomas. Her sweet little innocent brother who still needed her after all this time… Her sweet little innocent brother who had no choice but to need her after all this time !
Thomas had been gone for merely an hour to go fetch some things for his machine. Clever little Thomas who worked so hard so they could stay together… He wouldn't be back for at least four hours but she already longed for him to hold her tightly, without having to hide from the glassy eyes of this old Finlay, from the suspicious eyes of an annoying wife
Come back Come back to me
I've been waiting here patiently
I've been walking a thin white line
Between love and hate
I could use a lil' company
A lil' kindness to go a long way
His latest pitiful wife had been dead a month ago, they could live a comfortable life for several years… She won't have to share him for now. Thomas was all hers again. No more useless and inconvenient wife. With the winter coming, they would soon ber id of this old servant… Ah, if Thomas had listened to her years ago and had fired him for some reason… Soon they would lay in bed for days, just like before, talking about their dreams, about the life they would have once his machine would work… Everything will be back to normal. He will come back to her… And the distance that had got them away since their son's death would end… Poor Thomas, so sensitive… He would manage to understand that she had no other choices, that she had to end the misery of this little ill and difform body… He would understand and he would come back to her… They belonged to each others. Always. And forever.
Her fingers brushed against the piano keys, ready to play a little. Music always had been a gift to soothe her painful heart. But, just before the first note could be played, hurried whispers echoed from the hall… Jumping on her feet, she rushed to investigate. It couldn't be Thomas. At this hour, he would barely have arrived in town… Then who…
The tall lean silhouette of her brother soon came into her sight, joy rushing in her veins. He probably had turned back from his journey to town so he could spend more time with her. Surely, he missed her as much as she had missed him. Oh sweet Thomas ! The unceasing whispers reminded her that her brother wasn't alone… Who could he possible be talking with ? Certainly Finlay… This wastrel Lucille was hoping to see away as soon as possible. She just couldn't understand why Thomas wanted to keep him in the house !
Coming near them, the lady of the house didn't see the old man, but instead, she discovered a woman, her pink ball gown all but suitable for the freezing December air, cuddling in her brother's arms who was trying his best to warm her, hugging her, getting his coat off to put on her frail shoulders. Next to them was an odd baby pram, the infant chirping happily, its tiny hands outstretched high.
« Thomas ! » Lucille forced a smile on her face as she went to greet him, opening her arms, waiting for him to come to her just like he always did.
The look of pure surprise and fear on both Thomas and the stranger's faces when they saw her startled Lucille, just like the attitude of Thomas who didn't take a step to her but put himself between her and the young woman as if Lucille was a threat to her. She tried to hide her deception, which cause her smile to be scarier, her eyes more fierce. She moved toward her brother and put a possessive hand on his shoulder before resuming :
« What are you doing here so soon, dear brother ? You only went for an hour… And who are your lovely guests ? You should have said you were bringing guests… I'm afraid nothing is ready to greet them! »
The Baronet cleared his throat with uneasiness, shrugged his sister's hand off of him and forced a small smile to grace his lips. He declared with a shaking voice which transpired more fear than joy :
« Lucille, may I introduce you to my wife, Constance, and our… well her adorable daughter, Moira »
« Your wife ?! » the lady of the house screeched, her face becoming red by every passing second, unable to control her anger anymore.
She burst out in a burst of icy laughter and had to take her breath before she could add:
"Oh, Thomas, it is a joke, isn't it? You are not serious… You have not to be gone long enough to go to the nearest church… So, I hardly see how this « charming » young lady could be YOUR WIFE!"
The Baronet stared at his sister for a while, unable to find a good answer. He didn't even understand what he was doing here… Lucille's furious glare seemed to stab him hard, he felt like her icy hands were gripping him, forcing him to go to her as they crushed his heart. Only Constance's presence allowed him to fight against what he was feeling. Seeing his discomfort, Constance decided to break the silence, outstretching a friendly hand to the lady of the house:
« Lucille, right ? Oh Lucille, what a pleasure to meet you ! Thomas quel cachotier tu fais… It's obvious he had talked about his wife to his dear sister… But, rest assured, he didn't mention you once ! I imagine we'll have to get through this and attempt to live in harmony until we can find a solution to this « ménage à trois » ! »
(Thomas, what a secret keeper you are!)
Without taking her eyes out of Lucille, Constance squeezed her husband's arm, trying to make him say something. Lucille had apparently stopped breathing, her blue eyes turning red as she glared hard at her brother. A bad smile stretched her lips and she turned towards Constance, her voice all happy :
« Of course, dearie… Welcome in the family ! But you must be frozen, what about a nice cup of tea ?"
Thomas let a groan of pain escape his lips, holding to his wife and to the pram so he wouldn't fall. The baby started to cry and Constance turned to see her husband, shocked by what she was seeing. Thomas was several shades paler than usual, his eyes fixed at his feet, completely deaf to Moira's complaints. Then, without warning, he dropped to his knees, his face twisted with pain before he passed out, falling on the bare ground.
Completely forgetting her anger, Lucille rushed near her brother as Constance was already kneeling next to him, brushing his hair away from his sweating face. Lucille screamed with horror when she noticed the blood pooling, drenching Thomas's shirt at his side.
One hour earlier
Chuckling softly at his adorable daughter's antic, Thomas tried once again to put her left little shoe but Moira Sharpe was a pretty good kicker so the tiny shoe went flying out of her father's hand to the other side of the bedroom, barely missing his head. She giggled, clearly happy with her performance.
« Come on, little madam… » The Baronet cooed after having retrieved the item. « Let's make mama happy, okay ? You want to be pretty for mama, don't you ? »
Moira seemed to think really hard, and, with an adorable crooked smile, she stood still, allowing her father to finally put her last shoe on. Since the first time Thomas had seen her, she had wrapped him around her little finger, the dedicated father doing everything she wanted, mostly driving him insane. The little baby girl was his greatest pride, the apple of his eyes and she knew it.
Taking the three-months-old baby in his arms, he slowly lulled her, rocking her up and down as he sang for his daughter :
Look for the bare necessities
The simple bare necessities
Forget about your worries and your strife
I mean the bare necessities
Old Mother Nature's recipes
That brings the bare necessities of life
Constance arrived in the room at this moment, smiling when her eyes fell on her husband and daughter. Her heart melted at the view. She could never be bored of him and her. They were her life. She couldn't have enough of them…
Turning around, Thomas noticed the arrival of Constance, her gown hugging her curves in the most delicious way. She was perfect, if it wasn't for the pink color of the fabric that reminded him of the shepherdess of the iconic lullaby.
« Sorry Bo Peep, I don't have your sheeps… » he winked playfully at his wife, unable to resist the urge to joke at her depends.
Constance glared hard at her husband, straightening her skirt before smiling both mischievously and charmingly :
« In this case, Sir Sharpe, may you tell me what you are doing with this charming little sheep in your arms?"
"I must admit that it's an excellent question… I fear you caught me red-handed, pretty shepherdess! I'm guilty of the theft of this adorable sheep…" Thomas sighed loudly, walking toward his wife, rocking a laughing Moira in his arms.
Unable to stop herself from laughing, Constance took her daughter in her arms :
"Comme tu es jolie mon trésor… Papa s'est bien occupé de toi, on dirait… Voyons voir… La robe est dans le bon sens et oh miracle, tu as même tes deux chaussures! Congratulations Sir the Baronet, my husband… » Walking in front of the mirror so she could pick up Moira's teddy bear that laid on the bed, the young woman couldn't help herself but look again at her dress, mumbling : « This Marie-Antoinette wedding theme is driving me crazy. This dress makes me look like sour candy or a cough syrup, I assure you ! Since the time Marina dreamt of seeing me like this, I look like a "Bonbon rose" ! »
(How pretty you are, my treasure ! Papa took good care of you, it seems, let's see... The dress is put on the right way and oh ! What a miracle, you even have both shoes on!)
« Well, let me tell you, Sweetie, you make an adorable candy floss ! » Thomas purred, kissing lightly her cheek before retrieving their suitcases. « We better hurry… We wouldn't want to be late for Sean and Marina's wedding, would we ? »
Grumbling something incomprehensible, Constance followed her husband downstairs as Moira was giggling happily in her mother's arms.
« Thomas, be a dear and give me my coat while I put Moira in her carriage… »
But, before the Baronet could retrieve the clothing, someone knocked three times at the main door of the mansion. Thomas sighed and went to open the door.
In front of him stood a tiny little old woman whose face was wrinkled. She stared at them with her big bright eyes, giving them the look of an inquisitive owl before she disclosed a partially toothless smile. With a surprising nimbleness, she entered, laughing oddly and rather disquieting.
Constance stood agape, her memory working hard. She was sure she had already seen this old lady before but where? And when? A flash of the trip who had started her new life triggered her memory as she whispered, dumbstruck:
"The lady of the clothing shop in Camden!"
With a proud smile, apparently happy to have been recognized, the old woman went to the baby in the pram who started to wail with all her might, clearly frightened by the new arrival. "Dear sweet child, you will soon meet your family… And you…" the old woman continued, wrinkling her eyes in an attempt to see better the couple as they were rushing towards their child, trying to protect her the best they could, preventing the old woman to come closer her. "…your trials are not done yet. The cards have not been all played, I'm afraid… He is waiting for you… He counts on you, Thomas…"
Around the couple, the world seemed to faze, twirl and swirl. Constance saw the old woman vanishing, her smile full of evil promises. Stumbling to stay in their feet, Thomas and Constance blinked a few times as the house reappeared, a gush of cold wind freezing the young woman while she pulled the cover higher on Moira, trying to calm her cries.
"I don't believe it…" The Baronet mumbled, his gaze fixed in the ceiling, his arms snaking around his wife's waist.
Frowning, Constance looked at him before following his gaze, her mouth opening as she realized the change of scenary. They were still in Allerdale Hall, there was no doubt. Yet, the hole on the ceiling, the dirty walls, the wrecked wooden parquet indicated them they clearly weren't at the same time… But when?
A loud clear of throat coming from behind them startled them. They quickly turned to see a wrinkled old man whose kindness was written on his face. He was arthritic and quite old, his eyes milky and his homespun clothes were almost threadbare.
"Finlay?" Thomas asked, his voice just above a whisper.
"Sir Thomas!" the manservant bowed. "I didn't hear you coming home… Should I take your luggage upstairs?".
The old man came closer to the pram, making the baby laugh as he distorted his wrinkled face with silly grimaces, before he asked:
"Should I also descend the crib, milord?"
"Finlay…" The Baronet said quietly, still dumbstruck to see his long-dead olf friend. "This is my wife."
"I know, I know, milord. You've been married a while" Finlay replied, then he went around them to fetch the luggage.
Constance looked at her husband with wide eyes, desperate for answers.
What was going on?
The End